Watching Yute

by Joseph Picard

  “Well, you can’t hold it against Maxine for being concerned. It’s pretty plain to me that she considers you a good friend.”

  “True, true. Maxine is aces. Lotta pressure on her these days, being second in command suddenly, and with Cip…”

  “With Cip what?”

  Crud, Cassidy didn’t want to cause Cipriana any more grief. Karen knew exactly what she needed to know already, she was just hunting for bonus points. She could almost hear the pages of the psychology handbook turning in Karen’s head. “Well, you know.” Cassidy was careful not to trail off her voice. Careful not to leave any more breadcrumbs for Karen to follow, it was time for a subject change.

  Karen nodded, as Cassidy kicked a pebble along. “Cassidy, can we talk about Cheryl?”

  Fuck. Can we cancel the topic change? Well, it was coming sooner or later. Step lightly, Stanton, you’re in a minefield. “I guess that’s why you’re here, huh?”

  Karen nodded. “Stop nodding,” Cassidy thought, “You’ll break your neck if you keep doing that. Or I will.”

  “You two were close, I understand?”

  In response, Cassidy just held up her hand to show her ring.

  “What’s it signify?” Karen asked.

  Yeah, well, of course she was going to ask. Cassidy regretted bringing attention to the it. She didn’t want to explain the lameness of a promise ring again. She just replied “Yeah, very close.”

  “And how are you coping with her death?” There it was. All the infantry had been deployed in previous questions, and this was the first shot of battle. ‘How was she coping’, she asked. What a stupid fucking question, fit for a field reporter running around a disaster site with a microphone. But she knew it was coming.

  How to reply? Honestly? Never. But she couldn’t be glib about it either. That would raise all kinds of red flags in Karen’s little pop-psych head. Damn it, her pain was private. “Well, I’ll be honest with you. It sucks. We had plans, y’know?”

  Karen nodded, oblivious to how it was an invitation of strangulation to Cassidy. “What kind of plans?”

  Just shut up please! What kind of plans? International table hockey tournaments! No wait! Giant plaid emu racing! “Oh,” Cassidy sighed, careful not to let her body language bleed through. “The cliché, the happily ever after... All that crap.”

  “And now that plan’s gone.”

  Cassidy resisted smacking her forehead. Well, god damned fucking thankyou, Einstein. How many atoms did you have to split before you deduced that?

  Karen continued. “How does that make you feel?”

  She did not ask that. Did. Not. There should be a course these people have to take, all about never using that exact phrase, to avoid getting things thrown at you.

  Thankfully, Cassidy prided herself on having a level head. There simply wasn’t anything lethal enough on hand to throw. “It kinda makes me feel like flying around in an airlimb with ridiculously over-trained bodyguards, carrying a really old spear. So far that’s working out pretty well for me.”

  “Yes, I heard about that.” Karen paused. Cassidy could hear the pages in Karen’s head flipping back and forth, looking for a similar case. “I can’t say that is sounds like a terribly healthy situation.”

  Yeah duh. Especially for the guy on the other end of the spear. Cassidy looked out towards the temple. “It’s an Aguei thing, I guess.” Was Karen terribly well versed on Aguei customs?

  “You’re not Aguei.”

  Well, darn. Being able to blame a vengeance quest on heritage would be much more effective if Cassidy wasn’t white.

  “Armil said it best.” Cassidy's voice slowed to a measured pace, reserved for doling out folksy wisdoms. “There’s really no such thing as an honourary Aguei. You either are, or you aren’t. Nuthin to do with blood.”

  Soaking it in for a moment with a sigh, Karen observed, “Kind of convenient though, isn’t it?”

  Cassidy stopped walking. When Karen stopped and turned to look at her, she was met with the fiercest glare that could escape from under the brim of Cassidy’s hat.

  A long pause. Karen felt she had overstepped a little, and opened her mouth to say something conciliatory, but was unable to make a sound before Cassidy pointed forcefully at her. “I fail to find anything convenient in this.”

  Cassidy started to walk back to base at a brisk pace.

  “Cassidy.” Karen said, rummaging through her pocket. “Take my card, if you ever want to talk.”

  Cassidy took the card, and continued walking. As she walked she reached back to slip the card in the back pocket, ‘accidentally’ missing. The card fell listlessly to the ground.

  “Cassidy, you dropped it.”

  Without breaking stride, Cassidy simply replied, “Oops.”

  ~~~

  Cassidy walked into the women’s barracks. A couple people were sleeping, and Cipriana was in her meditative pose. Cassidy walked over to her own bunk, and sat on the edge.

  She stared at Cipriana, who sat there with closed eyes. Cipriana was broadcasting her usual aura, but it still wasn't quite the right aura. Cassidy stared for quite a while in silence, expressionless.

  “Cip.” She said finally, flatly.

  A moment passed before Cipriana calmly opened her eyes. “Cassidy. Hello.”

  Was she on the other line with the ghost? “So. Heard anything good lately, Cip?”

  “Many things. More burdens than good. I’m the new C.O., after all.”

  “It’s confirmed then. You rank up, huh? They could have brought in someone new to replace him.” That might have been better. Was she reliable now? Then again, if Marcus was hearing the ghost before, maybe it wasn’t so dangerous to have a crazy C.O.

  “I have the responsibility to find replacements now. Armil has lent me a few men for the immediate need, but I’ll have to find new people. Two permanent, and one temporary, while you’re…”

  A moment dragged on while they both thought of what Cassidy’s new duty might entail. “You know… it’s possible I don’t come back to duty here when it’s over. There’s a bad memory or two here, you may have noticed.”

  Cipriana sighed. “We would all feel the… loss if you did not return.”

  Cassidy looked over to Cheryl’s bed. “Any of the temps using her bed?”

  “No. They’re male.”

  Cassidy stood up from the edge of her own bed, and lay down on Cheryl’s. “Kay. G’nite.” She rolled over and curled up on top of the covers. “I mean, good afternoon. Whatever.”

  She pulled the pillow in front of her face, and inhaled deeply. She hoped to find the scent of Cheryl again, but was disappointed. Of course laundry had been done since. The sterile smell was a spiteful void.

  She gripped the pillow as tight to herself as she could, and pretended to sleep.

  ~~~~~

  :::C /38

  ~~~~~

  Horad drove up to his usual parking space outside the dugout. There wasn’t any sort of meeting today. Morale had been low since two of his men got put into jail for lobbing grenades around the Yute temple.

  The others asked him about the stabbing, since it had been on the news. He found himself reluctant to answer them about it. Explosives had always seemed so easy. Simple. You never even have to see the victims. Most of his bombings were as victim-free as possible. Property damage attacks done at night. He knew however, that people had died from time to time by his actions.

  But stabbing someone… that was different. He hadn’t done that before. He could still vividly remember the feel of flesh giving way to blade, made all the worse by the look on their faces. Especially the girl.

  It had led him to imagine the final moments of people bleeding to death after an explosion.

  He shook off the grizzly thoughts, and turned off the van’s engine. He tucked his unopened newspaper under his arm, stepped out, and looked around. Something was different. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

  He opened the hatch, and was careful not t
o trigger the trap. Before he was too deep down the stair, he looked back across the ground. There were no footprints or tire tracks, other than those he has just made. The dirt was very smooth, as if there had been some heavy winds. Had there been? Must have.

  It smelt odd inside. Just a little trace of something different. One of the boys must have been here recently, and smoking something unusual.

  As he made his way to the office, he noticed that the weapons pile had been disturbed. All of the ammo was gone. The others have taken ammo before, but all of it? That was stupid. He’d have to have a word with them, and beat some funds out of them.

  He turned on the mini fridge so that he could have a cold beer later. Sitting at his desk, his foot bumped the heat suit that Samuel had given him. Samuel never did ask for it back, as he said he would. He tried to think of other uses he could come up with for it. Maybe it would be better to just try to sell it. But to who?

  The newspaper read much as it did any other day. If the strength of the Aguei people was now free, you’d think there’d be a noticeable change in the world. But who was Horad to question the ways of spirits, or the speed at which they preformed?

  ~~~

  Cassidy awoke, rescued from another nightmare. Her little terminal was beeping desperately for attention. She sat up, yawned, and answered it.

  “Stanton.”

  Colonel Nafim’s face popped up on the screen. “Satellites showed us a lone man entering the dugout, about ten minutes ago.”

  “Armed?”

  “Not that we could see. Even if he has a pistol, I don’t think we have a lot to worry about. Still, it’s worth using the smoke again.”

  “Fine. Are you coming to get me?”

  “We’re about five minutes out.”

  “Kay. See you on the pad.” Cassidy hung up, and quickly put herself together, which wasn’t so hard, given that she fell asleep fully dressed.

  Maxine was in the room, and said nothing as Cassidy went to answer the call of nature. Cassidy hurriedly dashed out.

  “Good luck.” Maxine quietly said. It felt strange to wish someone luck in killing a man.

  When the airlimb set down, Cassidy was waiting. This was when she noticed that Cipriana had followed her.

  “Cip. Something wrong?”

  Cipriana looked over to the airlimb. “Cassidy, may I accompany you?” The bay door opened, and Keith waved Cassidy over. She turned to Cipriana. “Sure, whatever floats your boat.”

  Keith put his hand out to assist Cassidy onto the airlimb. She made her own way up, leaving him to help up Cipriana.

  Cassidy turned to Keith. “All restocked, huh? Did you get that five liters of vodka we talked about?”

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  “You’re fired. Hey, it takes us twenty min to get there, right? What if he leaves by then?”

  “The eye in the sky can track him.”

  “Alright then.” Cassidy took a deep breath. “Alright. I’m going to take a shower and junk while I have time. I was sleeping when the Colonel rang me up.” She marched off, leaving Cipriana and Keith to get acquainted.

  Cassidy hadn’t taken advantage of the showers on the airlimb previously. The showers at the base were spacious, if a bit rickety… at least compared to the airlimb’s shower… booths.

  There wasn’t much more space than minimally required. She must have struck her elbow on the light grey walls a dozen times before she was done. They were sterile looking, and sealed so tight, that she felt like pre-packaged luncheon meat.

  Getting out, she dried off, (except her hair, which she knew she didn’t have time to dry, and thusly didn’t wash) and reinstalled her hat. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

  For all they knew, that guy the satellite saw was just some innocent guy who happened to go to a place where that heat suit happened to be. But something told Cassidy that this was the day she’d look Cheryl’s killer in the eye.

  She looked herself hard in the eye. “Ready for this, bitch?” she asked herself. Yeah. Yeah, she was. This was the day. Let’s go.

  No, wait, put on more clothes than just the hat, then let’s go.

  She put on her usual top and desert pants, adjusted the kneepads. Strapped on the boots. Adjusted the holster. She knew she was wearing a fraction of the gear that the Storms equipped, but she felt like a tank. Unstoppable, force of nature.

  An odd sense of quiet surrounded Cassidy. She was aware of it, and thought of Cipriana’s ‘aura’. This aura was not one of peace. Nor was it one of war, or even vengeance.

  This was focus. This was purpose.

  She walked out of the shower room with deliberate force, her will pushing her to the beast's spear. She pulled open the door to her quarters and pulled the spear off its rack. With continued haste, she went to the loading bay, unapologetic as she nearly knocked over a Storm.

  The bay was empty. She stood near the door, with the spear standing beside her. She knew it was at least another ten minutes before they arrived, but she didn’t care. She was ready. She felt the trembles throughout her body, but this time it wasn’t grief. Was it just anticipation? The instinctual fight or flee reaction? Either way, she was going to set it loose when the door opened.

  After a while, Cipriana wandered in, and stood next to Cassidy, saying nothing. As odd as Cassidy found this, she welcomed the silence. Still… why did Cipriana want to come? Was she regretting not taking Armil’s offer first?

  Not long after, Storms started arriving. Keith showed up, and handed an IR/air mask to both Cipriana and Cassidy. “Sirs, you might want to step back from the door, to let the Storms go first.”

  Cassidy dropped her mask. “I’m taking point.”

  “Ah, I guess that’s your prerogative. Lemmie get you a flack jacket though. I mean, it’s only one guy who may not even be armed, but better s-“

  “Don’t bother.”

  Keith took it from Cassidy’s voice that it wasn’t negotiable. He handed the jacket to Cipriana, who now stood there holding the mask and the jacket. She wasn’t putting them on, but she wasn’t dropping them either.

  Keith started talking to the Storms as the airlimb slowed to land, but Cassidy was deaf to it. She widened her stance, and took the spear in both hands. Cipriana looked forward at the door, and lowered her head.

  “I am not needed here.” Cipriana quietly said, moving aside. Cassidy noticed this and wondered, as everyone else did, but this wasn’t the time for meandering idle discussions.

  As the door opened, Cassidy burst forward as soon as there was room. The sun was blindingly bright despite her hat, but she saw enough to hone in on the target hatch. She used the blade of the spear to flip it open, and jabbed downward to trigger the trap before darting by.

  She rushed down the steps, while the much more heavily laden Storms were still running to the hatch. She walked forcefully across the front room and the silent Storms poured in behind her with their smoke.

  If the Storms brought the clouds inside, Cassidy was the lightning. Lightning gripped her spear with both hands but her true weapons were wrath and fear.

  She entered the office where Horad waited, while the growing smoke behind her choked more and more of the light out of the other rooms. He stood quietly, watching Cassidy approach steadily, with murder in her eyes, and that spear. He recognized the reaper.

  Storms flooded the room, surrounding Cassidy and Horad, yet they were ignored by both. Horad lifted his handgun out of his jacket, just enough to let it drop to the floor.

  How easy would it be, Cassidy thought. One clean swipe of the spear would open his throat, and send payment for his crime across the wall. She held the spear upright, and stared at him until his knees pulled him to the floor.

  “You are the one who killed two soldiers at the Yute temple?” She asked in a flat tone that sounded more like a statement.

  He lowered his head as the smoke surrounded him in blackness. “Yes.” It didn’t matter now. There was no point in arguing with the b
earer of that spear.

  Cassidy was equally blinded, but continued to stare down at him. She felt Keith tap her hip with a mask. “Want this now?” She took it, and put it on. She looked down at the condemned. He didn’t even bother looking around. She knelt to his level, and spoke soft, but grimly.

  “What is the name of the murderer who took them from me?”

  He looked towards her voice and swallowed hard. “Elder Hor… Horad. Just Horad.” He knew who gave her the spear, and knew he couldn’t call himself an Elder any longer.

  Cassidy touched the side edge of the spearhead to side of his throat as the Storms watched. “Tell me, Horad just Horad. Why is it that you are not dead? Why after you killed a trusted friend, and the love of my life, aren’t I enjoying sawing through your neck and watching your blood soak into the floor of this hole in the dirt? Why aren’t I kicking your fucking head across the room, and across the desert, and laughing as birds rip it apart?”

  Horad leaned his head instinctively away from the spear.

  “I asked you a fucking question!!” Cassidy yelled.

  Horad mumbled “I don’t know.”

  Cassidy leaned in close, to whisper in his ear. “It would be too fast.”

  Cassidy stood, and watched Horad’s eyes widen. Now he was looking around, despite still not being able to see anything. It was all Cassidy could do to resist ripping him apart. She thought of Cheryl, and her wounds, and re-imagined her last moments, daring herself to lose control. Daring herself to rip this bastard apart.

  She sighed, and shook her head. She looked over to Keith. As if she needed to tell the Storms to be quiet, she held her index finger up in front of the mask in a “shh’ gesture. She pointed at Horad, and then pointed outside.

  Keith nodded, and signaled a couple of Storms. Within seconds, they had searched Horad. They found one other weapon on him.

  A knife.